Power
by Moonlight Memories
Summary: Growing up in the Black family, power was everything. But no one told Regulus that there were some prices too heavy to pay for it. Dark, slash, blackcest, rape. Oneshot. Sirius/Regulus


A/N: This is debatably one of the most messed up things I have ever written. Please remember that as you read, if you decide to.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. If I did I think I might have messed it up even more... definitely not a good thing.

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><p>Afterwards, Regulus was never quite sure how it happened – one too many obliviates or memory altering potions, perhaps, but in the end the result was the same.<p>

It started, of course, with the Amortentia.

Which, of course, was said to be permanent as long as one is fed continuously.

Yeah, right. That obviously wasn't true: Exhibit A, Sirius Black, who still hadn't fallen for Cousin Narcissa no matter how many times the family has dozed him. And it was not even as if they were shortchanging him or anything – everyone said -says- that Cousin Narcissa was -is- beautiful. Nearly anyone would be delighted to marry her, Amortentia or no.

Except, of course, Sirius Black.

But that wasn't the problem, not really – the problem was that Regulus got caught at his turn to dose Sirius - for some reason the House Elves refused. Or perhaps they refused with entirely too good a reason -_ because they knew._

Either way, the most horrible thing Regulus has ever seen (that he actually remembers) was the pleasant smile on Sirius' face when he'd plucked the cup out of Regulus' trembling hands.

"Amortentia, is it?" Sirius had asked, after taking a sip. He smirked. "Very funny, Regulus. Almost a plan worthy of a Marauder, won't you say?" he'd asked in that strange, hissing voice - the only indication of his rage. "Were you going to make your brother so deeply in love that he'd happily hand you the position of Heir?"

Where were the shouts of outrage? Where was the anger? Where were the hexes?

It was so surreal that he'd wondered if he was dreaming.

But afterwards he was thrown into the wall with a sudden force, and Sirius was still so very far away.

He wasn't holding a wand.

"N-No," Regulus had replied, frightened. "That wasn't the point!"

He'd been so afraid. And really, seeing the result now, wasn't that fear perfectly justified? Even if he cannot completely remember a time where he'd hate this anymore.

He just wish someone had told him how dangerous Sirius was, because he's pretty sure that he'd hated it once.

But that's the thing, isn't it? He doesn't _remember_.

Sirius had uncorked a vial, pinched his nose and forced him to open his mouth and thereby making him swallow its content with a faint smile, eyes glazed with something remarkably like the Black Madness. And perhaps it was -_is_-. "If that wasn't the plan, what_ was _the plan?" he'd asked absently, and Regulus found his arms and legs pinned to the wall.

Regulus kept wondering if Amortentia did things to someone that he didn't know about, but his mouth moved on its own. "To have you married to Narcissa Black, so as to ensure that you would be willing to restore the Black name to its former glory," Regulus stated.

_Veritaserum_. A chill ran down his spine then.

Before he had the chance to complete the thought, something that felt remarkably like a whip lashed at his skin, and despite the haze his mind was in, Regulus cried out.

It was only a moment after that he noticed that Sirius' wand was still on the table, far away from either of them.

"Oh yes, I forgot to tell you – for every answer that I don't like, I'll punish you," Sirius said absently. "The potion is keyed to Narcissa, then?"

"Yes," Regulus' traitorous mouth answered.

Strangely enough, there was no whip associated with that answer. Well, strangely enough then.

"Who was in on your nefarious plot?" Sirius asks with a smile.

"Narcissa Black, Bellatrix Black, Walburga Black, Orion Black, myself…" Regulus said, listing the names as quickly as his mind retrieved the information. At his words, his clothes shredded themselves, without Sirius moving closer or even touch a wand, and for every name he'd listed, something lashed at him.

It was nothing on the cruciatus, of course, not that Regulus knew what that felt like then. And not that he knows it now, either. But though he is obviously biased, he doubts that it might feel worse than not hating something that he clearly knows he should hate.

But at the time he wasn't thinking of such things. At the time he'd never been hurt, not even in the little spats between Gryffindor and Slytherin. The sudden influx of pain was horrifying to him, as mild as it likely was, and it was only made worse when Sirius stepped closer to examine his skin.

"You probably can't see it, but your skin looks quite nice covered in red, " Sirius had stated casually, eyes still glazed with what was undeniably the Black Madness.

Regulus should have begged then.

But, well, he doubts that it would have changed anything. As it was, though, he was too proud to make a sound at that comment.

He'd gone absolutely still – not even bothering to thrash against his bindings, whatever they were – when Sirius' fingers traced a long line into his inner thigh. The sensation was… odd. Strangely, achingly, sensitively _odd_. Even now he can't quite describe it right. The way it felt at the time...

"Very… beautiful," Sirius murmured, and to his shame Regulus had felt his cock harden slightly.

He just didn't know why.

Sirius had smirked, though. "Toujours pur," he'd whispered softly as Regulus' boxers fell to the ground, through his bindings as if they weren't there. "That was the point, wasn't it?" Sirius whispered, leaning closer as Regulus' hard on became more obvious. But he wasn't close enough to touch Regulus, and Regulus was stupid enough to think that he wouldn't.

He should definitely have begged then.

But he was too proud.

"Yes," Regulus replied.

Sirius took a step back. "Tell me, Regulus, did you do this of your own free will?"

"Yes."

He felt _something_ stroke the length of his cock then, but thought that he was fantasising so hard that he felt hands on him.

"Why?" Sirius asks.

"Because I was jealous of you," Regulus answeed, then froze as something thin and freezing cold snaked into him, up his thighs, up his ass. "Sirius… what are you doing?" he'd asked unsurely. But then he'd been so pitifully naive.

"You wanted the position of the Heir, didn't you?"

"Yes," Regulus answered.

Sirius smirked. "You wanted power," he stated, and though there was a bit of a question in there, Regulus thinks that Sirius had already known when he's asked.

"Yes."

Regulus shivered as more of the cold began assaulting him, stretching him, and Sirius watched in undisguised amusement. "Sirius, what are you doing?" he'd asked, panicking.

Sirius smiled and stepped closer. "I suppose I wasn't as important," he'd said, taking out another vial.

"Yes," Regulus answered involuntarily.

Something dark passed through Sirius' face then, darker even than the madness itself, and this time Sirius did not touch him - a curl of what can only be described as darkness itself forced the contents of the vial down Regulus' throat. "It's a bit of a pity, isn't it? That the one to inherit the true Black abilities was _me_."

Regulus struggled and tried to fight the strange object, fearing for his life, but it was useless.

"It's an antidote to the Veritaserum," Sirius had stated casually. "Along with something else."

"What did you do to me?" Regulus had asked furiously, headstrong and proud.

What a fool he'd been.

Sirius smiled. "Just a… fitting punishment," he'd answered, tracing the lines on Regulus' body that had built up after the punishments. The feel of his touch had been so delicious that Regulus' head had spun, his hands grasping at thin air. "You wanted power, didn't you?" Sirius had asked.

Regulus had been proud. He had not answered.

"That's fine. You can have power," Sirius had said, slipping a finger into Regulus. "It shouldn't even be too bad – I slipped a little bit of an aphrodisiac in with the Veritaserum."

"Sirius!" Regulus had exclaimed, scandalised and horrified.

"You wanted our line to be pure," Sirius continues, slipping another finger or two more in as if testing how far he'd been stretched, and by then Regulus had already had a vague idea of what Sirius had added to the antidote for Veritaserum. He just didn't want it to be true.

"Sirius, stop," he finally said, voice shaking.

"It's alright, Reg," Sirius had replied soothingly, the fingers leaving, and for a moment Regulus thought that he might be spared after all. But then the fingers were replaced with something bigger, hotter, something that filled him up… and he knew that it was Sirius' cock that was moving in and out of him- and oh Merlin, it hurt so much more than anything else, and why was it was so good? His traitorous body enjoyed it as Sirius angled closer, slipped in and out of him. Perhaps he even enjoyed the pain. But he screamed and screamed and wished and wished that someone would find him, at the same time hoping that no one would."You can have power. Our line can be pure," Sirius had said with a soft laugh, laying a cool hand on Regulus' stomach even as he thrust in and out.

"Sirius, Sirius, please," Regulus had pleaded, nearly vomitting in disgust at the implications. But his body shuddered with pleasure at Sirius' touch still. "Don't do this."

"Nothing but pure Black blood," Sirius murmured. "Won't the bitch be pleased?"

"I don't want this," Regulus had shouted, thrashing fruitlessly against whatever held him in place.

"I don't see why not," Sirius replied. "You were going to use me as a stud. Why shouldn't I choose my own broodmare?" Sirius questioned, nibbling on Regulus' ear, and Regulus nearly came from that feeling alone – his body was that sensitive. "Are you unwilling to do what you were going to make me do?"

"I wasn't going to make you pregnant with my children!" Regulus had replied.

Sirius smirked. "I think I would have preferred that to Narcissa," he'd said. "Not that it matters anymore," he'd added, just before Regulus' vision blanked out into nothing.

When he came to, Sirius was pulling out of him, and nothing was binding him anymore. But he'd looked at the long trail of semen and blood running down his thighs and cried despite himself, abandoning his dignity with it.

"Be my consort," Sirius had said, and Regulus had agreed.

There was no other choice, anyway – anything else would be nothing short of causing shame to upon their family.

Anything else would make the child that was doubtless already growing inside him nothing but a bastard child.

Narcissa had glared at him, of course, no doubt thinking that he'd keyed himself into the potion and engineered all of this, no doubt cursing him for her having to marry Malfoy.

He never told her how much he envied her.

But it doesn't matter. Sirius was right, in a way. If one doesn't count that he'd been forced into this, that he'd never get to choose his wife, he'd had his own share of power. Only… Sirius only smirks when he allows Regulus to take his seat in the Wizengamot.

Not that it matters anymore.

The only thing that he's thinking when he's sitting there is that he's Sirius' pet. Nothing more. And he doesn't even really resent it anymore, or care (he really wishes he knew why this was)... but if he could go back in time he'd shake himself by the shoulders and ask:

What good is that kind of power?

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><p>AN:I definitely ran with the idea and made up stuff that isn't in the book, but if there's anything horribly incorrect other than those, then I apologise.

And yes, of course Sirius must have done something else to the rest of them who engineered the plot. The only thing is that, if you noticed, at first (even though it was a bit vague), he'd thought that the potion was keyed to Regulus. Probably because he felt something there. But if this is his idea of leniency… well, I'm not sure I want to write what he did to the others.


End file.
